"Clandestine," a 2016 kirtan track by Simrit from her album Songs of Resilience, uses paradox and iterative chanting to explore non-dual philosophy — the idea that consciousness cannot be grasped, seen, or bounded by conventional logic. The song cycles through philosophical statements about formlessness ("the realm of nothing"), the dissolution of subject and object, and a state of ease beyond conceptual knowing. Rather than offering spiritual instruction, the kirtan operates as a direct investigation into states of consciousness that resist language.
What Does Paradox Do in Spiritual Chanting?
"Clandestine" opens with a series of negations that immediately signal its philosophical ground: "I know it can't be seen. I listen and can't be heard. And I reach and can't be grasped" (0:87–0:112). These statements do not describe failure; they describe the nature of consciousness itself. In non-dual traditions—particularly Advaita Vedanta and Kashmir Shaivism—the ultimate reality (Brahman or Shiva) is described through neti neti, or "not this, not this." It is not an object that can be grasped by the senses or mind.
By beginning with paradox, Simrit positions the listener not in a place of receiving instruction but in a state of cognitive disorientation. The statement "I know it can't be seen" creates a logical friction: if you cannot see it, how do you know it? This friction is deliberate. In the context of kirtan—devotional chanting—the paradox itself becomes a gateway. Rather than thinking about the meaning, the repetition of these statements begins to attune the nervous system to a logic that operates beyond subject-object duality.
How Does "The Realm of Nothing" Function in Non-Dual Teaching?
The phrase "in the realm of nothing" (0:147) repeats throughout "Clandestine" and anchors the song's central teaching. In non-dual philosophy, "nothing" does not mean absence or void in a negative sense. Instead, it refers to the ground of being prior to the arising of form, object, name, and distinction. This is sometimes called Sunyata in Buddhism (emptiness) or Brahman in Advaita (undifferentiated consciousness).
Simrit uses the realm of nothing not as a destination to reach in the future but as the present ground upon which experience occurs. By repeating "We're turning to nothing" and later "We return to nothing" (0:151–0:161, 0:239–0:249), the kirtan suggests that this movement is not exotic or rare—it is already happening. The distinction between "turning" (a future or ongoing act) and "return" (a coming back) mirrors teachings that suggest consciousness is already at rest in its own nature; we are simply recognizing what is already the case.
What Is the Spiritual Function of Negating Time and Causality?
A striking passage in "Clandestine" declares: "There's no beginning. And come on. There is no end" (0:180–0:190). This statement operates on multiple levels. On the surface, it may invoke eternal consciousness or a timeless reality. But within non-dual philosophy, the negation of beginning and end serves a more radical function: it undermines the sense of a separate self moving through time toward liberation or awakening.
If there is no beginning and no end, then the "I" that imagines itself as a bounded entity moving from ignorance to knowledge is revealed as conceptual. This has direct implications for spiritual practice. Many seekers operate from the assumption that they are deficient (ignorant) and must become something else (enlightened). "Clandestine" suggests a different logic: what you seek has no temporal relation to what you are. There is no journey toward it because it is not separate from the present moment.
Simrit then offers a pivot: "You can know end. But you can be at ease. In your own thing in the realm of nothing" (0:195–0:212). Here, the kirtan acknowledges that the mind can conceptually "know" or understand endings and boundaries, but knowing in this sense is not the same as being at ease. Ease arises not from achieving a state but from relaxing the effort to become something other than what you already are.
How Does Repetition Bypass the Rational Mind?
The song's structure relies heavily on iterative repetition. The phrase "I'm falling. It isn't bright. And below, it isn't dark. In the realm of nothing" recurs multiple times (0:127–0:147, 0:215–0:234), as do variations on "We return to nothing" (0:239–0:345). This repetition is not incidental to the message—it is the message's delivery mechanism.
In kirtan traditions, repetition serves several functions simultaneously. On a physiological level, rhythm and melodic repetition regulate the nervous system, slowing heart rate and activating parasympathetic response. On a psychological level, repeated chanting of non-dual statements gradually loosens the grip of conceptual thinking. The conscious mind, which requires novelty and variation to remain engaged, eventually becomes quiet. In that quiet space, the truth of the words—or more accurately, the resonance they point toward—may be directly encountered.
The musical arrangement by Simrit, featuring Salif Bamakora on kora, Shannon Lee Hayden on cello and electronics, and other percussionists, provides a tonal landscape that supports this dissolution. Rather than a driving, energetic kirtan, "Clandestine" moves in a contemplative register, allowing the listener's attention to sink into the repetition rather than be propelled by it.
What Does "We Return to Nothing" Mean Spiritually?
The shift from "We're turning to nothing" to "We return to nothing" (0:151 vs. 0:239) is subtle but significant. Turning suggests an active process or direction of movement. Returning suggests coming home, recognizing a state that is native or original. This distinction aligns with non-dual teachings that emphasize recognition over achievement.
In Dzogchen Buddhism, for instance, the goal is not to become enlightened but to recognize the enlightened nature that is already present. Advaita Vedanta similarly teaches that Brahman is always already conscious of itself; the apparent seeking for liberation is itself a function of that consciousness. By shifting the language from turning (a striving) to returning (a recognition), Simrit invites the listener to consider that the rest being sought is not foreign but intrinsic.
The final repetition of "We return to nothing. We return to nothing. We return to nothing. In the realm of nothing" (0:336–0:345) creates a kind of incantatory seal. The repetition builds a momentum that does not lead anywhere but turns back on itself, as if the words themselves are teaching the lesson of non-movement, non-becoming, and the cessation of seeking.
Why Does "Clandestine" Use Words Like "Falling" and Darkness?
The imagery of falling and darkness might suggest descent or loss: "I'm falling. It isn't bright. And below, it isn't dark" (0:127–0:141). In the context of spiritual teaching, falling often carries negative connotation—the fall from grace, failure of the self. Yet in non-dual philosophy, the dissolution of self-sense is not a tragedy but a homecoming. The ego's sense of coherence and control, when released, is experienced as falling—a loss of ground.
Simrit's refusal to assign moral valence to this falling is notable. It is not bright—it does not flatter the ego with clarity or reassurance. And below, it is not dark—it is not characterized by depression or oblivion. The falling exists in a liminal space beyond the binary of light and darkness, which in non-dual language often refers to the state beyond the play of subject and object, knowledge and ignorance.
Where to Go from Here
To engage with "Clandestine" as a spiritual practice rather than mere entertainment, listen repeatedly without trying to resolve its paradoxes intellectually. Allow the chanting to work at a somatic level—notice where in your body you feel the resonance, where tension may arise when contemplating non-existence or formlessness. The questions the song poses—Who is listening? Who is returning? What remains when all form dissolves?—are not meant to be answered in words but realized in silence.
Simrit's album Songs of Resilience includes other explorations of non-dual and yogic philosophy through music. Those interested in the philosophical tradition underlying "Clandestine" may also explore teachings by Advaita Vedanta teachers such as Ramaji or Nisargadatta Maharaj, or Buddhist non-dual approaches in Dzogchen and Mahamudra. The value of "Clandestine" lies not in intellectual understanding but in its capacity to attune consciousness to a logic it already inhabits but has forgotten how to recognize.
